Our Past
by Atthla
Summary: According to the rule of equivalence, to gain something you need something of equal value. What about memory? An investigation led Ed to a philosopher's stone which replaced his memory. [RoyEd, discontinued]
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: None of the characters here is mine.**

**WARNING: This will eventually end up as Roy/Ed. **

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**Our Past**

**Author: Atthla**

**Prologue: The Memory**

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Thunder and rain.

It was one of the nights which made Roy felt uneasy, like the weight of the world had been put upon his shoulders. Endless splattering of raindrops on his office window also worsened his mood. His clothed fingers were continuously tapping the paper-filled surface of his desk, filling the room with a soft monotonous sound. The last time he felt this off-balance was when he spent his night on a train and the morning after, when he arrived at the Central City, he was greeted by the news that Maes Hughes had been killed.

Hughes. He could not deny that the late man was probably the person he held closest to his heart, the one he trusted more than himself. And something _that_ awful was perhaps about to happen again… Roy shuddered at the thought.

"Have you finished signing the paper, Colonel?" Hawkeye's stern voice pierced through the silence surrounding him.

The man looked up, letting his eyes to roam at every line the first lieutenant had in her brow. He knew just how much the female officer hated him slacking off. There were few –very few, in fact– who were valiant enough to disobey the blonde woman and Roy was currently teetering between his anxiety of how easy the first lieutenant shot her gun and his conceit of being superior.

After a moment, he settled on the latter and gave her a flat look, voice echoing his authority. "Not now."

Hawkeye hardly moved a muscle but Roy could see her lips tightening. "We will need the Fuhrer to approve those documents tomorrow morning. The quicker you sign them, the faster we can forward those donations to the Ishbar refugees."

If there was something which could force the Colonel to work in his foul mood, it was the word 'Ishbar'. He might look unconcerned, even apathetic toward the matter but the guilt was still there, plaguing him day and night. Silently he regarded the woman standing before him. She undoubtedly knew about the remorse he silently bore. It was unbelievably difficult to let anybody come as close as Hughes once did and he was not sure if he could trust Hawkeye as much. She was loyal to him, it was doubtless, but would it remain true in the future?

Nevertheless, whichever he chose would not matter much to the people of Ishbar and he still had to sign the documents as quickly as possible. He was searching for his pen, which was buried under the mountains of paper when a commotion rose behind his office door.

"Stop right there! You can't go in without permission!"

"Let me see the Colonel! Please!"

The said colonel raised his eyebrows, recognizing the anxious voice as Alphonse Elric's. Yet before he could say anything, Hawkeye had walked to the door and opened it.

"What is happening?"

From his desk Roy could see two guards, each at Al's sides, helplessly trying to stop the youngest Elric from storming into his office. Their expression switched from desperation to horror when they noticed the first lieutenant standing behind the threshold, her face displaying an obvious displeasure. Both of them were still stuttering in a pathetic attempt to explain the tumult when Al finally managed to free his arms and march in, passing Hawkeye before the blonde officer could blockade his way.

"Colonel! Please help Nii-san!"

Right after he said it, the armor opened his wet chest plate, revealing his smaller brother curling inside. Roy was ready to burst out laughing when he noticed that the blonde alchemist was not moving while in front of him, Al was waving his hands in panic, telling him to help his brother out, which he finally complied. Then carefully he laid the unconscious boy on his couch.

Following him, the younger brother was still ranting nervously, "His fever is very high and I can't do any-"

"You mean," Roy cut him, voice dangerous and clearly annoyed, "you have the courage to bother me at this hour simply because your brother has a _very high _fever?"

"It's not that!" Al said desperately, leaving more damp tracks on the carpet as he paced around. "Nii-san said that this guy-"

"Colonel, he's awake."

At Hawkeye's calm notification, the colonel felt both victorious and angry. He was about to raise his hand and burn the two alive when a gasp was heard coming from the older Elric. He turned around and was greeted by a pair of golden eyes burnt by rage and, implausibly, fright. They were looking directly at him, ignoring the rest of occupants in the room. By some means, the stare froze Roy to his place; he had seen it only too often during the most dreadful stage of his life, the Ishbar war. It was the look countless innocent children and women gave him, a rebellious look piteously marred with fear.

The others might have noticed it too since no one moved when all of a sudden the Fullmetal clasped both of his hands together. Fortunately, unlike his duel with the Elric before, the colonel reacted fast this time and instantly recognized the method Edward habitually used when he was about to perform a transmutation. Impulsively he pulled one of his gloves off and tossed it to the floor, creating a massive stone wall between the Fullmetal and himself along with his crews.

His spontaneous decision proved to be invaluable when sharp tips of many lances burst through the wall, scratching his face in process. For a moment, the colonel felt unable to move. The lethal attack was clearly aimed at him, but despite his constant jokes about the height of the blonde boy, he could not find a sensible motive of why the Fullmetal would wish to kill him. It was ridiculous to think that he deserved to be killed just because he –no matter how frequent– had confirmed a fact that the young alchemist suffered a serious lacking in the height division.

The sound of Hawkeye behind him pulling out her pistol snapped him out of his thought, as Al ran to the other side of the wall. After a while judging the possibility of him receiving a deathblow once he showed his face, Roy decided to see the boy anyway. Besides, he really needed to see how bad the destruction Edward had actually inflicted on his beloved office.

Any thought considering the budget of any necessary reconstruction fled out of his mind when once again, his eyes met them of the Elric. If the stare had stunned him before, he hardly could describe his shock when Edward, upon seeing his face, screamed desperately.

"Don't get near me, you rapist!"

_Until the next chapter…_

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**Notes:** Another attempt of an FMA's fic! I simply can't miss this pairing! XD As for the story, basically Ed has his memory replaced with a new one and now what he remembers is that Roy has raped him in the past. I will explain more in the next chapter, so please review! Thanks for reading, folks!

**Second Note:** I think I need a beta-reader since grammar is not my strong point. Anyone?


	2. Chapter One: The Theory

**Notes: Thanks to XxMaster-ExX, Althe, baby-pnut, RuByMoOn17, Kaede Yuki, Vialana, and Ronda-Silverpaw for reviewing! Hope you like this chapter as well! This chapter is set three weeks after the prologue.**

**A special note to KuRoI-iNu: I thank you for your offer to be my beta-reader. Please give me your e-mail address so I can send you my chapters. Thanks!**** :)**

**DISCLAIMER: None of the characters here is mine.**

**WARNING: This will eventually end up as Roy/Ed. And this chapter has a lot of grammatical mistakes.**

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**Our Past**

**Author: Atthla**

**Chapter One: The Theory**

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**_–Three weeks later–_**

At that bright afternoon, the library of Central City was noticeably quiet, serving its role well as a place to read and study. Alphonse huffed in relief as he stepped into the vast books-filled building. Although he could no longer sense the scorching heat of sunlight, he had never liked the blinding sparkle it made on his metal membrane. Even with his lack of eyelids, his eyes were the closest thing to a human's he managed to maintain in spite of everything, which made them still react violently to overwhelming brightness.

As he passed the front desk, Al nodded courteously to a middle-aged woman who was the librarian. The woman smiled in return, acknowledging the armor as a state alchemist's brother who often visited the library in search of his shorter sibling. He came almost _every day_.

Pacing noisily between shelves of thick books, he looked for a blonde head. His brother often sat at the deepest corner as if by doing so could seclude him from the world and its troubles. Sometimes it saddened the younger one that he had to be the one to pull him out of his sanctuary. Nevertheless, now that he had lost almost all including his mortal body, he could not suffer the bereavement of the very last thing he still had, _his brother_.

He nearly lost Edward, at least it what was on his mind when he ran mindlessly, breaking through the heavy curtain of hammering rain that night. Afraid that the worst would happen, the Colonel was the only one in his mind who could to help his high-fevered brother, perhaps because it was _his_ name Ed kept calling in his delirium. _Roy__;_ he had never thought his brother could say the plain short name that frightened –that appalling– at least not until he learned of the only memory Ed still remembered.

As if he could call it a _memory_…

The sight of twin golden eyes showering him with terrified looks was still fresh in his mind, unperturbed by the length of three weeks time. It was shocking enough when he found out that his brother suddenly suffered amnesia, but to discover that Edward also no longer recognized him as a brother was far more painful. He forgot everything, even the name _Al_.

But he remembered _Roy_, because of that vile memory. And he remembered his own title.

_'That was what he called me when he did that. Fullmetal…'_

Even now Al still hesitated of what he should believe. Of course, he had tried to convince himself that the Colonel would not do such thing, but was it really feasible to implant an illusory memory, one which had never existed in the first place? The Philosopher's Stone without a doubt possessed a great power beyond imagination, but n idea that it also could create something amorphous was a thing unheard of. Perhaps the Colonel did hold some interest in Ed although his heart vehemently objected the theory. His brother would never allow it to happen, nor would Al and he, to put simply, had never left his brother's side.

Luckily Ed didn't change much –at least he still flaunted a vicious respond after the word 'short', apparently a chronic habit not even amnesia could obliterate. Day after day, he tried to gain everything his memory had lost, which required him to spend most of his free times in the library. It was a true fortune that learning alchemy was more like breathing to the Fullmetal and in two weeks –despite Al's burning protest– the military had decided to try him on another mission.

Edward was strong, too strong for his own good, but he refused to make his little brother worried and thus he tried his best to be the _nii__-san_ Al always owned before. It was as if he merely lacked memories, unfazed by the glaring one he still regrettably remembered. Alphonse would have believed that it was nothing but a temporary malfunction of brain if Ed did not preserve his disinclination to meet the Colonel anytime, anywhere, in any occasion.

When three weeks had passed, the blonde alchemist almost regained his old self totally that not even Al could tell the difference. Ed still practiced with him in the morning like always, smacked him square at the head if he was being too noisy, even crack his good-natured laugh when Mayor Armstrong tripped over a fairly visible stone. But when night dawned, when he thought his younger brother had floated into the isle of dreams, he would stare out from their bedroom's window, eyes filled with unspoken longing. Al knew those feelings only too well, for he himself had doubted his own memories once and it was terrible enough. He could hardly imagine what it was like to hold onto memories which were told by others, not by his own past recollection. Apart from _that one_, of course.

The pain to re-introduce himself to his brother was something Al would never forget. He might not be a person who valued high mindless revenge, but for his brother, he would willingly discard any principle.

Now, where was that brother of his?

"Nii-san?"

True that he got a respond, but it was in the shape of a hiss from a bald state-alchemist who was sitting behind the long table in the middle of the library. Al murmured an apology as he continued to search, roaming between rows of tall shelves; what if for this once his brother chose to take a stroll than read books? Who knew, although the thought was literally impossible considering Ed's current state.

Mounds of thick dark-covered books in the corner of the furthest alley caught his attention and yes, there his brother was. The blond alchemist was sitting cross=-egged amidst giant piles of books which left him pretty much unseen, covered by various bundled manuscripts if Al did not choose to come closer. His brow was creased into a serious frown, eyes following lines printed on the book with a speed that indeed needed his utmost level of concentration.

"Nii-san?" he tried once again, more tentatively.

The older boy snapped his head up immediately at the soft call, golden eyes meeting his brother's white lifeless ones as the impact. Al was startled to see raw fear displayed vividly in Edward's eyes, but it had been impeccably erased before the younger brother could overcome his initial shock. Not even a second later, a quick smile had appeared on the blonde's lips, followed by a reply, no less faster. "Yes, Al?"

Being a simple-minded little brother, Al would have believed the unimpeachable act if he did not by chance notice Ed's hands sliding from their earlier stance in front of his chest down to his waiting lap. Al unconsciously shuddered; he would have been crushed into pieces if the fullmetal chose to favor his impulse than his senses.

"Is it midday already?" Ed asked, fishing his silver watch out in process when he finally noticed that his brother was in no condition to give a decent reply.

"Yes," suddenly Al found his voice. "You often skip lunch and pay heed to nothing else when you're studying so I have to come and fetch you."

The older brother rose from the lavishly tiled floor and stretched his stiff muscles, his automail-ed arm lightly brushing against the tallest stack, which Al looked warily at. Eyeing the monstrous piles with a thoughtful expression, Ed scratched his chin and murmured to his brother, "Should we put these books back to their place?"

"Of course, Nii-san!" Alphonse was only too ready to answer, voice echoing blatant disapproval. As if to emphasize his words, he immediately reached for the nearest heap and started to restore the books to their proper place according to their indexed number. It was when he noticed that some of the books belonged to the highest shelves that not even someone with his height could possibly reach. "Nii-san, did you ask the librarian to get you these books with a ladder?"

Suddenly Edward grinned and before Al could repeat in uncertainty that his brother had missed his question, the blond alchemist had climbed a nearby stack with an agility of the nimblest cat and perched on its summit. Eyes glinting merrily, he looked downward, still grinning. "I hardly need a ladder. Give me those books."

Obediently Alphonse passed them to the blonde. "Have you really finished all these books?"

"I wasn't reading them," Ed answered, voice losing a tad of its earlier nonchalance. "Only looking for something."

Al was too polite to prod the issue further and decided to keep his guessing for himself. His brother would tell him in due time like always if he had thought the time suit –or at least the old Ed would. They had spent another minute in silence, only hands busily working when Al once again initiated a conversation, voice heavy and hesitant, obviously reluctant to lead the topic he was about to discuss. "Nii-san," he gulped as he passed another three books, "after lunch we have to submit our report to the Colonel."

There was a pause while the Fullmetal took his time to shove the books forcefully into an empty space in the shelf. His golden eyes were still refusing to look at his brother when he said quietly. "You do that."

"But Nii-san-"

Suddenly Ed spun around and cut Alphonse's words, eyes blazing in fire. "What do you expect me to-"

-and the stack he was sitting lost its vulnerable balance as the impact, bringing the blond alchemist down right to the hard floor.

"NII-SAN!"

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The sun was bright.

Too bright in fact. It roasted the face of Central City like a dried meat in the heart of a desert; merciless but still inescapable. The fact that summer was ending did not aid, let along change anything. Autumn and its salubrious breeze were but wistful dreams which became fader in mind as the sun crawled slowly to claim its highest throne, weather developing a higher degree of heat as minutes steadily ticked away.

He was becoming melancholic. And foolish; what kind of colonel he was if he spent hours to daydream instead of working on his documents? Midday barely passed and he had slacked off already. Mentally giving himself a smack square on the head, Roy whirled his chair back to face his desk. For a moment he merely evaluated the thick stack of paper on his desk. While fieldwork was not entirely his cup of tea, paperwork was much worse, especially now that he had experienced being chained to his desk to spend a sleepless night with many unfriendly papers. It was horrendous to find out that papers, despite their obviously lifeless state, could demand for more attention than any of his former girlfriends had.

But Hawkeye was drop dead scary. Roy doubted he would be surprised if suddenly a bullet from the First Lieutenant's gun made a hole on his office door just because she somehow noticed his laid-back state. Instead, it was highly possible that the picture would materialize soon if he did nothing to defeat his indolence.

Releasing a heavy sigh, the Colonel reached for the paper at the top of the stack. A request for an asylum? Was this supposed to be _a colonel's_ work? And after that, a letter which notified him the conveying of a crate of cactus to Northest Town. The third paper was a report that in the past year, the military had saved six drowning cats and... what the hell? Roy could feel his eyebrows twitching. Why did it suddenly make him think that it was a disgraceful waste to be a state alchemist? And what would a little monotonous town like Northest do with a crate of cactus anyway?

Slamming the papers fiercely onto the smooth surface of his desk, he leant back and closed his eyes. He did not like the sun, but he could do nothing to the huge glass window behind his chair. Contrary to common belief due to his title, he had never liked its heat. And now he also hated its glow. It reminded him of bright blond hair.

Oh right, _Northest_. Now he remembered why the mentioning of the place had bothered him. It was the city where the Fullmetal had –presumably– lost his actual memories and from where a magnificently absurd memory had come to lodge itself in a quarter of the blond alchemist's brain. The first time Roy found out about what was left in his charge's mind, the level of his shock was outstanding, and it was like competing with his disgust to reach the top marks. It had never crossed his mind even just onceto do _that_ to Ed. Hell, he positively wasn't interested in kids half his age.

Unfortunately most of his subordinates were more than willing to believe the Fullmetal –thanks to the guard duo who had been trying to stop Al from storming into his office that night, everybody managed to hear the complete (no matter how fictitious and twisted) version of the story of a colonel raping his underage charge. Too bad Roy wasn't self-conscious enough to suspect that perhaps their faith had grown so rapidly because of his unequaled reputation with girls.

But he certainly didn't rape Edward. He would rather put his life at stake and tried to seduce Hawkeye instead.

A train of knocks disturbed his thought and he prayed it wasn't his first lieutenant coming to ensure the progress of his paperwork –which only three so far he had _glanced_ at. When the gigantic build of Alphonse Elric invaded his line of sight, Roy huffed in relief.

"Colonel, I bring my brother's report," the armor spoke with a clear polite tone.

Brows knitting into one fine line, the Flame Alchemist said in brewing annoyance, "You again? I thought it was your brother who has the title the dog of military."

The answer he got was no less stern, yet carried a tad of desperation in it. "Nii-san still disinclines to meet you in person, Colonel. Please understand his condition for this once."

Roy was so willing to point out that it had been the third time Al representing his brother, but wisely chose to stay quiet about that matter. He had seen many victims of rape before and compared to them, the Fullmetal was as calm as the pristine surface of peaceful ocean –with its rage and storm lay quietly underneath. Roy knew he was expected to understand. And so he did.

After taking the bundle of report from Al's outstretched hand, he quickly dismissed the younger Elric, expecting the other to be as pissed as he was at the situation which none of them could change and soon leave him alone to deal with his anger in peace. It took him one full minute to look up again and find the build of armor still standing resolutely on his place, small white eyes staring straightly to the paper on his hand.

"Colonel," Al began, a flare of hope flashing in that one short title. "Is there any development in the investigation of Nii-san's case?"

To answer seemed very difficult for Roy, but he eventually managed a short explanation, if a bit inadequate. "I have sent a man from the investigation division to go to Northest Town but nothing of importance he has reported."

"Oh."

Had Al could move a muscle of his stiff metal face, the Colonel would have seen a heartbreaking crestfallen expression. Roy studied him for a moment, noticing the straight posture the younger brother still maintained despite the downcast of his eyes, and decided that it would be rather rude to try sending him away once more while he himself was still the accused rapist of his brother.

"Are you sure you have told me everything you know?" It was a cliché procedure when an officer was reluctant to admit his deadlock situation, but Roy could think of nothing else to prove that he was really making an effort to solve the case.

"Yes," the other nodded, there was a small clank of metal as he did so. "We arrived at Northest Town at July 28 and found nothing out of ordinary. Nii-san didn't tell me the details of this mission but he himself was looking rather bored. It was on the third day of our stay there when he disappeared and did not come back to the inn. I waited until about 8 p.m. then decided to search for him. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a dungeon of an old abandoned mansion with Nii-san having a high fever beside me. He kept calling your name, so the first thing in my mind was to bring him to you. We spent a day for the journey here and arrived at Central City that night."

"You said it was pretty early in the morning when you set off to Central City," the Colonel sat back on his chair, eyes looking sharply at Al. "Do you remember anything, anyone, or even the precise time?"

His voice was a bit wistful when he replied, "I felt dizzy, and it was odd because I shouldn't be able to feel that kind of thing anymore. But I saw nobody, as I have stated in my report before. About the time," Al raised his hand and touched the back of his head sheepishly, "I was too distracted, Colonel. There was Nii'san's silver watch, but I didn't give a second thought about it."

The Colonel lowered his eyelids to see clearer into his mind, voice quiet as if speaking to himself. "You arrived here at July 30 night, so you are unconscious for approximately two days."

That sentence made Al feel –for the first time during his cursed days entrapped inside the armor– grateful that he could no longer eat, nor needed any food.

He was still wavering in the irony of all things when suddenly Roy asked again, eyes still shut. "You have never seen this alchemist I ordered the Fullmetal to search?"

"No, not even once."

It was the look the Colonel was presenting before him that convinced Al that he made no mistake in trusting him. The man was still silent, his lips tightening as if he was struggling to say something he was not supposed to. But the words which slipped out of his lips was a short, simple, "You may go." However, Al eventually discovered a moment later, when he reached the doorknob to give it a light press.

"How is your brother?"

The inquiry was soft, almost inaudible, and brought with it an air of odd ambivalence. It froze Al to his spot, but when he turned around to find that the Colonel was so determined not to look at him, his answer was sincere. "Better."

Eyes still resolutely set downcast, Roy listened to the younger Elric's waning footsteps. The report he was trying to read made no sense at all to his malfunctioning brain that even if it was no trait of him to give up so soon, he stood up and walked to the window behind him.

It was a choice to be lamented, a seriously injurious one. A wave of remorse –and oddly, yearn– hit him hard when his dark eyes caught a sight of a blond young man in black attire standing unobtrusively in the cool shade of the colossal headquarter building, eyes looking anywhere else but to his window. It lent a new topic for him to contemplate, that he had not seen the Fullmetal since that night three weeks ago.

"Colonel."

Hawkeye's firm voice put his attention back into the office, but he made no attempt to turn around. In his intent scrutiny to the young alchemist far down below, he could almost imagine seeing his lieutenant sharp eyes roaming at the desk and his untouched paperwork. He waited, sensing another scold coming.

But none came.

The Fullmetal leant back to the grey wall behind him and Roy's eyes barely missed the uneasy expression on the blonde's countenance. The boy folded his arms and dared himself to glance at the headquarters' entrance, but stubbornly not to the window above. A slight pang appeared in the Colonel's stomach at the sight and almost involuntarily, an incredibly weird question left his mouth.

"Do you think I really did it?"

He was expecting Hawkeye to give a straight answer –a 'no', or even a 'yes'– but she merely shot another query, forcing him to think and decide for himself. "What do you think, Sir?"

As he witnessed Edward's face brightening at the coming of his brother, a warm smile gracing his lips, he knew what to answer.

"No, I didn't do it."

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_Until the next chapter_

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	3. Chapter Two: The Realization

**Notes:** Sorry for the late update. I have reasons but let's not bore you with those, shall we? Thanks to everyone who has bothered to review: **Xx-Master-ExX, aprun, RuByMoOn17, KuRoI-iNu, Althe, Das Blume, ctt, Rogue Shadow**, and**Sozuki**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine**

**WARNING: Male/male pairing (Roy/Ed)**

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**Our Past**

**Author: Atthla**

**Chapter Two: The Realization**

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_An idle hand was the devil's plaything._

Roy found himself evaluating the phrase side by side to a yellow black-spotted butterfly which was breezing past his face with the easiest leisure. The way the small lepidopteran fluttered its flimsy wings was –for some reasons– fascinating to his idle mind. It was erratic, yet pleasantly constant in its inconsistency if one did bother to keenly observe. The name 'butterfly' sure was insulting for such sophisticatedly-contradictive, fine-looking creature. Flies were nuisance, an unsightly carrier of many ingestion illnesses, and even though butter was by many reasons irreplaceable, it remained solidified milk fat nonetheless. The equation resulted an inapt answer, nothing equivalent.

But perhaps it would be interesting to see if the 'butter' 'fly' had also the capability to melt like ordinary butter did. Roy raised a gloved hand to the air and was about to shape a nice little fire when his prey flapped its wings quicker in a sudden haste, as if sensing the imminent danger its watcher soon might bring if it were to take its time around.

The devil's plaything, indeed.

He grinned sourly at the thought and puffed a slow gust of air at the insect, watching it scurry away with half-interest. Lethargy was becoming an acute syndrome for him the last few days and it only became more critical along with the increasing height of paperwork on his desk. A threat from Hawkeye's gun might be a fast, effective cure, but unfortunately the first lieutenant was currently on a leave to attend a family's wedding.

A small 'woof!' rose from his side and Roy tilted his head, regarding the white-and-black creature slouching languidly next to him. Another smile, less sarcastic and more relaxed, curved his lips as he put his hand on the furry back. Black Hayate yawned in response, staring at him with half-lidded but observant eyes which began to drift shut with each stroke the man graciously gave to the back of his neck. It was nice to know that there was someone –or something– that cared to share his passion of midday indolence.

Leaning back to the warm tree bark behind him, the Colonel let out his own lazy yawn, slightly foggy eyes observing what vista laid before them in the slightest of curiosity. At times like this, the world seemed to have paused at a stagnant halt, as if taking its time leisurely to appraise the effort it had made since dawn broke. Not a single human soul could be seen in the vicinity and the only sound available was the occasional rustle of Black Hayate shifting his position. Emptiness, apparently, was the peerless quality of a summer afternoon and he found in the static tedium a peculiar sense of contentment nothing else could offer. There was a sort of beauty in it, accentuated by the warm dormant air, slowly but steadily lulling him to thick slumber.

But all of a sudden, the haunting tranquility was disrupted by another sound and voices in the distance. Roy opened one eye to observe quietly as the sound grew clearer –a faint echo of footsteps and subtler murmurs. From the entrance of the military library, two figures of striking dissimilarity appeared and the man could feel his other eye also fling open to appreciate the sight. One was a heavy build of armor, shiny under the intense sunlight, and the other was a slighter boy anyone could have mistaken as a twelve year-old. They were engaged in a marginal discussion he was not able to hear from his sanctuary under the oak tree.

Then, a realization hit him like a cold wave piercing the tranquil warmth. There _was _a reason for his astonishing fondness of lethargy, and it was –quite unexpectedly if not odd enough– in the form of a blond young man of fifteen summers. Roy had managed to discover the Elric brothers' routine to cross the headquarter courtyard at noontime, presumably to have their lunch. Since then, a habit to sit under the oak tree at those hours, staring to nothing in particular, had developed in him.

The fact that he had a daily need of seeing the older one of the brothers to fill alone was strange. Many would call it abnormal, but up to this point, he had the slightest care in the world for rumors. He was contented only to see the sun-kissed golden hair that was pulled into a loose braid excel everything else nearby, or just the warmth in the boy's quiet smile even though it was not as bright as it once had been.

Roy snickered under the shade. Yes, perhaps his addiction was unhealthy, but he needed to see the Fullmetal.

Softer yet clearer footfalls on thick grasses set his alarm off and he turned to his left, noticing Havoc standing just next to the tree. The flaxen-haired man also had his eyes set on the brothers, contemplation apparent in them. Roy's gaze flickered to the other man's hand, at a small plate of minced meat balanced on three fingers.

"An interesting scenery, no?"

He looked up to Havoc apathetically, aware of the little quirk on his subordinate's lips but preferring to ignore it. The cigarette sagged even lower when a conspicuous grin began to take a shape and Havoc dropped to his knees beside him, placing the plate in front of the wagging-tailed Black Hayate.

"You know what, Colonel," the second lieutenant started once more, a thoughtful hand set under his chin, "it isn't wise to ignore your paperwork. Farman is complaining that he has to put the new ones on the floor now that you haven't worked on the older papers."

"Give him my condolences," Roy shot back sarcastically, plucking the cigarette out of Havoc's mouth to have his own share of tobacco. The smoke stiflingly filled his lungs and he had to resist the force to unimpressively cough in front of his underling. Smoking had never been his habit, but it seemed interesting to just annoy Mr. I-know-a-secret-about-you Havoc. Or probably it reminded him –even so slightly– to Hughes.

Again the Colonel leaned back to the tree, partly listening to Black Hayate finishing its lunch while his eyes discreetly following the Elric brothers disappearing around a corner. He had not thought about Hughes so much these few days since his mind was occupied by a more pressing, fresher topic regarding the Fullmetal. Still when he did, it was vivid and painful, a harsh realization that he was now alone without the other man's presence. Sometimes he wondered what the late Mayor –no, Brigadier General– would have said about the accusation of him molesting Edward. He would have laughed, perhaps, but Roy knew that Maes would never doubt or suspect him like most of his subordinates.

Havoc was still grinning, his amused gaze fixed on his superior's varying countenance. A dry brown leaf fell onto the raven-haired man's head and he removed it with the slightest ease, tilting his head a bit to a side and said with a laugh in his eyes, "But, Colonel, she is coming back tomorrow. It is best not to give her a reason to use her gun, right?"

Roy growled dangerously in his throat; he was treated like a child –almost like how _Hughes_ often treated him– and he did not appreciate it –not if it was not Hughes. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to slip between his fingers and tossed it to the thin air. A sharp flick of a thumb against the third finger set the half-length of cigar on flame into grey ashes as he watched them fall like abandoned memories. His voice was harsh, commanding, a pungent taste in it when he turned a pair of sharp dark eyes to Havoc.

"Let's do it then."

Sometimes it was best to forget.

A city was not the most pleasant place to be, Edward reflected, particularly at night when no one kindhearted seemed to care that a boy was trudging his lonely way along a dark deserted alley.

The thought compelled a contemptuous snort to leave his throat. It was absurd. Despite his glaring lack of height, he was positively a fifteen year-old, also a definitely qualified alchemist in that matter. Defending himself had never been a problem before, and the Fullmetal did not see a reason to start worrying now. Exceptions always occurred, of course, but it was not like he had never gone through this sort of circumstances – at least according to what Al had told him to be his past. From those stories, it had always ended well.

But he did not like Central City. The sun shone too brightly at daylight but when night descended, every part of the city would be covered with a thin veil of mist, which did extremely well in obscuring his line of sight especially at this kind of narrow ominous-looking alley. Still it was his own fault for leaving a borrowed book at the barrack and Al was too kind to refuse a lady who was renting a room next to theirs and requiring help to watch for her sick puppy while she had to leave for work.

The point was, nothing could have gone wrong. It was fairly common and he had been taking this road for the past four weeks if they were not out of city for work. Hard to denied though, that the alley was eerie and the cold weather obviously did nothing to help.

Edward cringed; his automail seemed to deliver a colder wave throughout his body. A small fire would be nice, but his current skill did not permit him to transform anything into the flaming source of heat. That and trying to transform fire from pure nothing was a deviation from the law of equivalence. Worse, fire and flames reminded him to a certain colonel.

Inwardly he groaned, his feet kept trudging heavily. Just the right thought to raise more issues. Al had been trying to convince him that the Colonel would never do such thing, but how did he suppose to trust someone else's saying when he could not even trust the only memory he still owned? He had met Mustang once in a cloudy morning on his way to the library and the look on the man's face made him uncomfortable and, not to mention, alarmed. Al had accused him of being overreacting but Ed did not think that had been the case.

Trying to remember any bit of his past had been a hell but trying to forget _that memory _was nothing but the hellhole itself.

In the middle of his deep contemplation, suddenly the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Ed cast a wary glance around and caught a shadow obscured by mist approaching from ahead of him. The sound was intermittent –probably just another drunken man that often wandered at the alley after scoring several empty glasses at a nearby bar– but he voted for a precaution and clasped both of his palms in front of his chest.

Very true. Exceptions always occurred. It was a drunken man but not just another drunken man. Ed could feel an uncomfortable feeling along with fear began to take hostage of his heart.

Colonel Roy Mustang focused his eyes at him for a moment, obviously surprised by the appearance of a fifteen year-old boy that late of night. "Fullmetal?"

Ed was just about to do something –anything, screaming, running, hurting, even killing the Colonel– when the sound of a gunshot spoiled the silent night. At the next second, he felt a strong arm pushed him to the wall, smell of vodka stuffed his lungs, and his alarm went wild inside his brain at once. The vile and only memory he had sprung to life, almost like a movie it replaying itself in front of his eyes, of the same hand pushing him to the cold floor, lips trailing, teeth biting along his body, and the man having his way roughly with him. He gritted his teeth, suppressing a terrified scream, and looked around for a way to escape from both the Colonel and the shooter when his back bumped with the wall.

But his vision did not swarm like what had happened in his memory. His head should have made a rough collision with the hard surface of the wall, but it did not. Ed opened his eyes and discovered that it would if not for a hand softening the impact by winding itself around his blond hair. The surprise from the protective act came to him vaguely and was immediately pushed to the back of his mind since the matters at his hand now were already critical enough.

A tap of his palms together and his automail had just turned into a sharp blade when another gunshot echoed, followed by a strangled moan from the man in front of him. Ed released himself from the Colonel's arms and instantly leapt forward to hunt a shadow he had seen moving a moment ago behind a tall heap of crates. Suddenly there was another sound of gunshot from the opposite direction and a searing pain surfaced on his cheek, something warm trickling down from the fresh wound down to his chin. Still he kept running but then discovered that his target had disappeared.

Astonishment deluged him but Edward was quick to recover and immediately turned around. Because of the mist, his eyes could only do as much as distinguishing a silhouette of someone aiming a gun at him from a distance, the Colonel still leaning to the wall with a hand clutching his waist. The blond boy growled; he was brave but not stupid enough to charge ahead blindly to an armed opponent in a narrow battlefield like this. But he didn't have another choice, did he?

Ed was hovering between saving himself and risking a rash attack when suddenly a sharp sound of fingers flicking rang in the silence and flames were kindled on the assaulter's long coat. The Fullmetal spared a glance at the Colonel before committing his own alchemy by pressing his palms to the wall and crafted a fine confinement for his attacker. Once it was finished, he rushed forward and found that he only managed to confine the burning coat, its wearer nowhere to be found.

_'What the hell?'_

Nothing but thick silence replied to his unvoiced curse. Ed stared at the extinguishing flames and what still remained of the coat –it was a dark ordinary coat one could find at every cheap store, the wearer could be of both sexes. Absentmindedly he put his hand on the wall and restore everything back.

Now to the main problem.

He turned around and walked warily to where the now unconscious Colonel still lay. It was preferable to leave the man there, but not after he had done something like trying to shield his subordinate from bullets and suffered the wound himself. Said subordinate was not fond of the Colonel and in the middle of trying to avoid meeting him in every shape and form but to be in debt was nothing Ed would have.

Halting next to the man still with an air of complete vigilance, the Fullmetal observed him quietly for a while, judging what he should do with the other being unconscious either from the wound or just because he was drunk. Ed poked the limp hand gingerly with his feet but the Colonel did not stir awake. Only the hand would move and fall to his side, revealing the dark blue uniform stained by darker shades of blood around the waist. Ed winced at the sight; the bullet must have hit its target after all.

Or probably the wrong target, he was not sure. But the thought made him feel uneasy and he stared again for a long time at the man he could only remember as his rapist.

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_Until the next chapter_

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Added Notes: I'm still looking for a beta-reader. Anyone willing to help me? Thank you for reading! Please review!


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